Titanic
by HodrichMaid
Summary: Arthur Kirkland, engaged to marry French aristocrat Marianne Bonnefoy, having a slowly dying love affair with her brother Francis Bonnefoy and being courted by the young Princeton student Alfred F Jones on board the iconic R.M.S. Titanic on its maiden and last voyage to the bottom of the Atlantic.
1. Chapter 1

It was very dark down there; a shade of black – or bluish black – that neither of the men on board had seen before in their lives up until they started this exploration, almost a month ago. The gelid depths of the North Atlantic Ocean looked uninviting to the MIR submarine that had descended from the world above, more specifically, from the Russian exploration ship Kéldysh off the coast of Newfoundland. The waters that had housed a great secret for more than eighty years: what had really happened, on that cold April night, to the most luxurious, the grandest, the fastest and the unsinkable R.M.S. Titanic of the White Star Line?

Canadian treasure hunter Matthew Williams and his American step-sister and best friend – even though it was kind of lame on her part – Amelia Jones, along with a team of experts, were not looking for answers, rather than for a single object, a mundane and materialistic object that laid on the wreck of the ship of the century, which had gone down two hours after midnight of the 15ht of April, 1912 with a death toll of 1 500 men, women and children.

They were looking for the _Blue Ceylon_.

It was a simple piece of jewellery, worn by one of the passengers, whose stateroom they were actually on, examining each and every inch of the submerged room. It was a gold and diamond brooch, but it had a peculiarity that made it stand out from any other jewels from the world. It had a rare blue diamond brought from the very heart of the Sri Lankan civilization as a gift to an Indian emperor in his coronation day in the 2nd Century. The jewel, today, would be worth more than the Koh-i-Noor diamond.

Amelia was currently on the controls of the submarines', as you could call it, "hands" and she was proud as how much progress she had made on the subject, while her stepbrother was looking out the small window when he spotted something next to the fireplace, upon entering through the private promenade deck.

"Wait. I think I see something. Flip that over" Matthew said, referring to a battered door that had probably belonged to the closet. Amelia did as she was told, looking intently through the night-sight as she carefully, as her stepbrother was guiding her through the process, took the door – which could have easily broken at that moment – away with the mechanic "hands". Underneath it there was a surprise for both of them, and surely, for everyone above, a surprise that could bring prestige to the stepsiblings' career as treasure finders.

"Payday, bitches" Amelia said with a smirk on her face.

Once on the deck, everyone had gathered around for the historic event. Amelia had brought in the champagne they were saving for the moment of the big finding and their colleague - although Amelia didn't like it because she thought that he was a "commie bastard" – Ivan Braginski put his hand over Matthew's shoulder with a smile on his face. He knew the effort of the Canadian had paid off finally. Next to him, the Lithuanian Toris Laurinatis had been told to record the whole event with the camera.

The battered safe deposit box found on the First Class cabin was slowly lowered down and put on the deck, in the middle of a puddle, but when it was opened, and with everybody expecting to see the shining diamond, everything came out in a gush of muddy water. Inside there were papers, surely shares of stock, a black booklet...

... but no diamond.

"No" Matthew said, almost traumatized with glazed eyes, grabbing papers that broke up in his hands as he touched them "This can't be" after all the effort they had put in that, nothing came out. He was disappointed, to say the least. Amelia made a sign to Toris to turn off the camera and she kneeled behind her brother, who was close to tears.

"We'll find it" Amelia said, although she didn't know how... that was until she saw something that caught her eye, amidst the muddy water the safe had inside. It was a drawing, but it was not too clear, so she couldn't tell _what_ was drawn in that piece of paper "Let's take this to the lab"

In the laboratory, in the upper deck, Polish forensic investigator – not of corpses, they were icky – Feliks Lukasiewicz was carefully rinsing the dirty water off the drawing and, on a monitor, Matthew and Amelia could see the progress. Matthew's eyes widened when he saw it: drawn in that paper was a young man, a boy, who appeared to be fair-skinned with blonde hair because it was not coloured, big eyes and completely naked in a sensual pose, but there were two things that caught his attention. One was the date of the drawing, which was clearly April 14th, 1912, the last day Titanic saw the light of day, and the other was the silk scarf worn by the boy... which was held together by the Blue Ceylon!

"Give me the photo of the diamond, please" Matthew asked their assistant, a young Latvian boy named Raivis, who, upon seeing a naked man on the screen, turned his face away blushing like a tomato. He grabbed the picture from the corkboard and gave it to Matthew, who put it next to the screen. Amelia was watching behind his back "Perfect match" she said.

"I'll be God damned" Matthew said, with a smile on his face, mesmerized by the coincidence.

* * *

In a small house in the suburbs of Los Angeles, California, an elderly man who had been trying to paint a flower vase in front of him for the past half an hour, made a big red angry cross on the canvas and huffed, throwing it away with as much force as he could muster. He wasn't really talented when it came to painting, and when he couldn't paint what he _tried to_ paint, he got angry. He was quite short-tempered, he had always been since he was a kid, he remembered. The only artistic talent he had was playing the piano, he had learned when he was just a lad back in England, but he had been forced to sell his grand piano in more difficult times.

"We are here with Canadian treasure hunter Matthew Williams and his crew on board the Kéldysh to explore the most famous wreck of our century, the Titanic" Arthur heard from the television elsewhere in the house and that caught his attention so he slowly – very slowly – got up and grabbed his cane to go to the living room, where the television was. His grandson Peter was watching and when he saw his grandfather approaching the sofa, got up and went over to help him.

"What is it?" Peter asked his grandfather. He pointed at the television with his cane, once he had sat down comfortably.

"Please, turn that up, Peter" his grandson complied and he could hear perfectly what that cute young Canadian man was saying, showing a drawing that was not all too clear for Arthur.

"Look, for example, at this picture we found today. It is eighty five years old..." once they made a close-up of the picture in question, Arthur's eyes widened considerably. That was the picture he had thought he would never see again in his life.

"I'll be God bloody damned" he whispered.

* * *

Matthew was inspecting the MIRs before taking another plunge into the cold Atlantic to see if he and his team were lucky this time and found that damn jewel, or at least, hints of that. It could be anywhere in his room, or his fiancée's room. Just when he was mentally going through the blueprints of the First Class cabins, which he had seen personally underwater for at least a month, Ivan came up behind him with a smile on his face, making him look damned cute in the eyes of the Canadian, who had always had a crush on the Russian, but had been too shy to say so.

"Matvey, there is a call for you" Ivan said, clutching the phone to his chest. It was quite windy on the deck "It's important".

Matthew turned around and his cheeks got a little bit pinker looking at the cute Russian, but had to shake his head and turn back around "I'm sorry, Vanya, I'm busy".

"You will want to take this" Ivan said tauntingly. Matthew turned around again and grabbed the phone with a thankful smile on his face "Speak up, he is kind of old"

"Great" Matthew mumbled before speaking on the phone "My name is Matthew Williams, how can I help you mister...?"

"Arthur Jones" came a soft voice from the other side of the line. Arthur took a deep breath before asking "I was wondering, Mr. Williams, if you have found the Blue Ceylon yet" there was a short pause as Matthew was stunned and wide-eyed, he turned to look at Ivan, who was smiling like a child and rocking back and forth on his heels.

"I told you" he said before walking away, giving the Canadian a good view of his bum. Matthew, _again_ had to shake his head and spoke "W-Well, you have my attention, Arthur. Can you tell us who the boy on the picture is?"

Arthur smiled on the other side of the line and let out a breathy laugh "Oh, yes" he said "The lad in the picture is me".

* * *

The helicopter from the mainland landed with a deafening sound at the heliport of the Kéldysh. Matthew went over from the lab to welcome the new arrivals, who could finally unravel the mystery surrounding the Blue Ceylon and its disappearance, but Amelia wasn't so convinced; she was following her stepbrother through the deck, trying to knock some sense on him.

"There is no record of Arthur Kirkland after the sinking, when he was _seventeen_. As for Arthur Jones, he worked as a piano and French teacher until he retired. He adopted a little girl in the fifties and moved to Los Angeles, but never married. She had a kid and so on. I'm telling you. This guy is a God damned liar!" Amelia said, frantically moving her arms around to try to catch her stepbrother's attention, but he continued walking and didn't turn around when he said "Everybody who knows about the diamond are either dead or here, but _he knows_. Besides, he will be a hundred on May, so it makes sense that he was on the Titanic around that time"

"Well, then he is a _very old_ God damned liar" she said, but Matthew paid her no mind as he smiled and walked over to where the men in orange overalls were helping down an elderly man in a wheelchair and, once he was down, covering his ears for the noise, helped down an attractive young boy with porcelain skin, golden hair like once his grandfather had but instead of bright green, his orbs were the purest shade of blue.

"Mr. Kirkland, welcome on board the Kéldysh!" Matthew yelled over the sound of the blades. From the helicopter, the men continued unloading a couple suitcases. Arthur always liked to travel light, but he knew Peter couldn't live without his dog Hanatamago, so they brought him along. Matthew and Amelia moved aside so Peter could push his grandfather to where Ivan was leading them, with a smile on his face. He winked at Matthew from afar and the Canadian blushed. Amelia rolled her eyes.

"With everything that's going on you are focusing on the commie bastard? I can't believe you, bro. I just _can't_ " Amelia mumbled as she walked away from his love struck stepbrother.

Half an hour later, as Peter had fed Hanatamago in his cabin, the dog had fallen asleep on what would be his bed for as long as they stayed there, and he went over to his grandfather's stateroom which was across the corridor. Arthur was looking at himself in the mirror next to the bed and combing his messy white hair. He had thanked all Heavens above that he had not lost all his hair while getting old. He was truly thankful for that and for many other things, too.

"Hana has eaten and is asleep" Peter said as he sat down on his grandfather's comfortable bed. Arthur huffed and rolled his eyes.

"At least we won't have the damn thing bothering us" he said bitterly, but was cut off when there was a knock on the open door and they both turned to look at Matthew and Amelia, smiling at them "Oh, Mr. Williams, Ms. Jones" Arthur said, quite surprised that they visited them so early upon their arrival. They must have wanted to get down to business as soon as possible.

"We wanted to check if you were comfortable in your cabin, sir" Matthew said politely in a very soft voice that was barely audible, but Arthur understood it alright, and he nodded with a small smile. He didn't want to smile so much. When he was younger and his skin was smooth and porcelain-like, he smiled and laughed carelessly, but now that he was older, he feared that, upon smiling, his face would get wrinkled in a way that he dreaded it would, so he rather have a stone face than the face of a Shar Pei.

"Is there anything you'd like?" Amelia asked with a fake tone of hospitality. She didn't believe a thing Arthur had told them, and he knew it. He had known it ever since he stepped a foot – or rather, a wheel – on that ship that she didn't like him. Arthur straightened up.

"Yes. I would like to see my drawing, please" he said with his head up high.

* * *

Arthur couldn't believe it. Laying in a tray, under the clear water, much different to the one it had been submerged in for the past eighty years inside the safe, was the drawing that wonderful man had done of him, completely naked and wearing that astounding piece of jewellery. Peter, upon seeing his grandfather – who was actually very cute when he was younger – in the nude, turned his head to the other side with a blush on his cheeks and his gaze met that of a young ash-blonde that was standing there, Raivis. They looked at each other, blushed and smiled. Peter shook his head and rested his hands on his grumpy grandfather's shoulders, trying to avoid looking at the picture.

"You actually think that was you, grandpa?" Peter asked, not sure of the answer. His grandfather could remember what he had had for lunch on Victory Day, but he wasn't sure the memory of a man who was almost a hundred years old could go as far as the post-Edwardian period (AN: I didn't know if call it that way, because the Edwardian had ended in 1910, or call it Georgian). Arthur turned around.

"Of course I was, poppet. Wasn't I a dish?" Arthur said, wiggling his eyebrows and causing his grandson to groan. The elderly man chuckled. Matthew approached them with the picture of the Blue Ceylon he had for reference.

"In the second century, Emperor Kanishka was given a rare blue diamond extracted from the very heart of Sri Lanka – which was later named Ceylon by the British – as a present for his coronation and he wore it on his sceptre for which it was called Nīlē Rājadaṇḍa or 'Blue Sceptre'. It was brought to London upon the colonisation of India in the nineteenth century and made a brooch which was later bought, from the Queen's private collection. Today, it would be worth more than the Koh-i-Noor and the Hope diamond together" Matthew explained, showing Arthur and Peter the picture. The young boy was marvelled at the sheer size of the diamond and the opulent brooch that his grandfather had apparently worn.

"It was a dreadfully heavy thing. I only wore it that once" Arthur said, dismissing it as if nothing. Matthew smiled and Amelia rolled her eyes. She _still_ didn't believe him and she wouldn't any time soon, apparently.

"Okay, here we go" Amelia said after a couple minutes of Arthur looking at the jewellery recovered from his cabin. She was showing them a virtual simulation of how the ship had sunk, all the while Peter was stealing glances at Raivis "She hits the berg on the starboard side and drags along, punching holes into the hull like Morse code. Tip, tip, tip. The forward five compartments are flooded immediately and the water begins to spill over the top of the bulkheads. The bow begins to go down, slowly at first, and then faster and faster until she's got her whole _ass_ sticking up in the sky, and we are talking about twenty or thirty tons. The hull wasn't built to handle that amount of pressure so, what happens?" Amelia makes a cracking sound, all the while, Arthur is staring blankly at the screen "It splits down to the keel. After a couple minutes, the bow detaches and the stern floods and goes under about 2:20 am, two hours and forty minutes after the collision" Amelia finished with a smile, proud of herself "Pretty cool, huh?"

Arthur sighed "Thank you for that _fine_ forensic analysis, Ms. Jones. However, the experience was somewhat different" he said blankly. Matthew approached him from behind and politely put his hand over the elderly man's small shoulder "Mr. Jones... are you ready to go back to the Titanic?"

He had suppressed those memories for eighty-five years. The gelid waters swallowing the ship full of screaming men, women and children. The frozen bodies found the following morning. The death of someone he cared for the most. A tear rolled down his cheek, but he wiped it away with shaky hands and took a deep breath.

"It's been eighty-five years, already..."


	2. Chapter 2

The burgundy-coloured automobile, which was the first of a caravan of three vehicles of different colours each, stopped right in front the main terminal building in Cherbourg, France. One of the two drivers, dressed in their grey uniforms and hats with black gloves, opened the door and held out his hand which was taken by a smaller, white-gloved hand "Miss" the driver politely greeted her as she stepped down the vehicle. She was wearing a form-fitting pink dress with a white lace front underneath an open brown mink coat she had bought the previous week, a long pearl necklace and a wide-brimmed hat, which hid her blonde hair pulled up into an extravagant hairstyle. Her name was Marianne Bonnefoy, a French socialite and perfect example of the dying aristocracy of the old realm of the Sun King: she was snobbish and pretentious. She waited patiently for her fiancé to step down the vehicle also. He was blonde, as well, with beautiful porcelain skin and big green eyes that matched the emeralds in the gold brooch he was wearing, attached to his cream-coloured suit underneath his beige cape. His name was Arthur Kirkland, and he was roughly seventeen years old but already engaged to _Mademoiselle_ Bonnefoy since the previous week.

Marianne's personal maid from Paris, young Michelle Beauvais, was travelling along with them and was carrying _mademoiselle_ 's jewel case, which she always insisted on being packed separately from the rest of her baggage when she travelled. Her family had immigrated to France from the colonies the previous century.

"Cheer up, _mon cher_ " Marianne said, without looking at her fiancé and walking through the terminal doors, trying to ignore the noise of thousand passengers from three different classes ready to board the majestic Titanic "We are about to board the ship of the century!" Arthur was not excited, at all. He sighed and closed the open cape over his neck as he made his way into the crowded terminal with who would later become his _wife_.

That was the word he dreaded the most.

Reluctantly, Arthur followed his soon-to-be wife and her maid – which he really liked, because she was very kind to him and very cheerful – through the gangplank along with other First Class passengers Marianne _obviously_ knew and was starting to greet with that fake smile on her face, on board the White Star Line tender Nomadic, which would take them and almost a thousand First and Second Class passengers to the "Ship of the Century" according to Marianne. To Arthur, it was a slave ship, taking him to America in chains.

Meanwhile, as the Nomadic made its way from the port to the Titanic, several hundreds of Third Class passengers waited instructions to board the tender's sister, the Traffic. A taxi cab pulled up at the entrance and a handsome blonde wearing a black suit and coat paid the driver before running into the terminal, not minding the loud noises the passengers and staff were making. His name was Francis Bonnefoy, brother to Marianne and heir to the Bonnefoy fortune as wine-sellers. He went immediately towards the counter, where an employee of the White Star Line was scribbling down some notes in a book, perhaps a record.

"I _need_ a ticket" Francis said, putting his hands on the counter loudly. The employee looked up from what he was writing, kind of amused and asked "On the Titanic? Sorry, sir, the tickets had been sold out since March" he said before closing the book and getting up, with said object under his arm. Before disappearing into the crowd, Francis grabbed him from the arm and, with the other one, took out his check book. The man looked down at it and smiled sympathetically.

"I'd really like to help you, sir, but there's nothing I can do. Excuse me, please" he said before, as Francis had predicted, getting lost in the sea of people. He sighed and ran a gloved hand down his face. Now he had to find another way to get in that ship, and he had to do it _fast_. Then he thought of something he had pushed to the back of his mind, for the sake of more important things to have in mind at the moment, perhaps. He began looking through the faces of the people waiting in line, expecting to find his dear childhood friend, Antonio, who he knew was going to board the Titanic in hopes of a better life in America.

"It's going to be a superb ride! I assure you" Francis' head raised up when he heard the distinctive Spanish accent and the unmistakeable voice of his friend, he went over to where the voice had been heard over many others and took out his check book once again with a smile on his face. He patted the man in the back, making him turn around with a confused expression on his face, but then he relaxed and smiled one of his typical smiles "Francis! What are you doing here?" he asked, going for a hug but Francis pushed him away, not because he didn't like hugs, but because there were more important things at the moment.

"Antonio, you remember when I convinced my father to hire your Italian friends which were useless as a broken pot to work at the vineyard?" Francis asked, quite in a hurry. Antonio, not knowing where that conversation was heading nodded with wide eyes "Well, then I need you to do me a favour in return" he said, grabbing onto Antonio's shoulders, ignoring his two Italian friends and sisters looking at the scene in front of them.

"Whatever you need" Antonio said, breaking into a smile. Catherina looked quite confused and pissed off because they were going to miss the boat and her younger sister Felicia was eating some grapes from the plants they were taking in a basket to plant somewhere in California or Oregon, perhaps.

"I need your ticket" Francis said simply, looking into the Spaniard's eyes, which were wide as a plate after that statement. Antonio laughed it off, but Francis shook his shoulders "I will pay you enough to buy one hundred acres for your vineyards in America. Please, I _seriously_ need that ticket" Francis said with pleading eyes Antonio had never seen before on him. He was always so elegant in everything that he did and now, he was willing to get on his knees and beg in front of all those people in order to get what he wanted.

Antonio turned, still grabbed from the shoulders by the Frenchman, to the Italian sisters to have their opinion on the matter, but Catherina would have none of it "Absolutely no! What does this bastard pretends? That we go to America and...?" she was cut off by Francis speaking up "I will pay you and you can reunite with Antonio on the next trip. I promise I will take care of you" she turned her head to the other side, blushing, crossing her arms over her chest and puffing out her cheeks "I don't need anyone to look after me... bastard" she mumbled.

After a couple more minutes, which felt like an eternity to the Frenchman, Antonio gave in and accepted the check in exchange for his Third Class ticket. He kissed Felicia on both cheeks, telling her to be a good girl and an excellent winegrower. He turned to Catherina, who was looking away with a blush on her face. He contemplated the chance that he wouldn't be able to see his Cathy in a long while so he grabbed her from both cheeks, surprising the Italian, and kissed her in the lips causing her a _massive_ blush "What the hell?!" Catherina yelled, even though she had been waiting for that kiss ever since she had met the Spaniard at the Bonnefoy vineyards at the Loire.

Antonio gave Francis a big hug and whispered a soft "Take good care of them" before leaving. Francis sighed in relief and walked behind the Italian sisters, putting his hands on their small shoulders. Felicia smiled back at him, but Catherina, still on a daze from that kiss, rolled the hand off her shoulder annoyed. She didn't like much physical contact, but if it was Antonio, after that kiss, she could rethink her position. She shook her head. What the hell was she _thinking_?

The Nomadic came out of the fog and the impressive R.M.S. Titanic appeared in front of mesmerized eyes, completely illuminated and sticking out from the night scenery. Marianne was standing at the deck, looking up at the ship while the sailors set up the stairs for the passengers to climb through. Arthur went over to her after having mindless chatters with fake smiles with nearly everybody he knew that was aboard the tender. He sighed. He didn't like that there was so many people that knew about his engagement on board the same ship he would be boarding. He looked up "So this is the ship they say it's unsinkable?" he asked his future wife "I don't know what all the fuzz is about. It doesn't look bigger than the Mauretania" he said in a blank tone. He truly wasn't impressed.

Marianne chuckled as she fixed her white gloves, looking down, not meeting her fiancé's eyes as she spoke "You can be blasé about some things, Arthur, but _not_ about Titanic. It's over a hundred feet longer than the Mauretania and far more luxurious" she said, looking up at the giant ocean liner's black and white hull. She turned to him "You are far too difficult to impress" Arthur glared at her from the corner of his eye and adjusted his cape.

At the decks of the pride of the White Star Line, the passengers that had boarded previously on Southampton were looking down at the approaching tender, already judging the other passengers by their outfits or, if they knew them, by their bank accounts. A sudden loud singing voice interrupted the calm of the early evening, and most passengers turned around to see what was going on behind their backs.

 _Success to each other and pass it along,_

 _Vive la compagnie!_

A couple more voices – men's voices – joined the main one as a group of young Princeton students approached the railings.

 _Vive la, vive la_

 _Vive l'amour_

 _Vive la, vive la_

 _Vive l'amour_

The main voice, that of the loud Alfred F Jones from New York, suddenly stopped singing, but his jolly mates didn't seem to notice as they carried on singing. He had spotted something, or rather _someone_ on board the tender. His outfit was beige and his eyes were bright green, looking at the hull unimpressed.

 _Vive l'amour, vive l'amour_

 _Vive la compagnie!_

Those green eyes met his own blue orbs and the normally boisterous American's cheeks were tinted red, because the man looked even more beautiful looking up. Alfred smiled down and went over to where the passengers were supposed to be boarding, whilst his friends continued checking out incoming women.

Marguerite van Rijn was one of the first to board the magnificent ship. She was a Dutch-Belgian noblewoman who, upon the tragic death of all the men in her family – her father, who owned several companies in Belgium and the Netherlands, her older brother Lars, who she loved very much and her husband, who she respected but didn't love, as it had been an arranged marriage – had become the richest woman in Europe and had been travelling with the Astor matrimony in Cairo and made very well acquaintances with them, especially with Madeleine. History would come to know her as the "Unsinkable Countess van Rijn". She was cheerful, even though what had happened to her. She thought the dead must be remembered happily for what they did in life, thus she didn't believe in mourning. She was wearing a beige tailleur with a black wide-brimmed hat and matching gloves.

"Welcome on board Titanic, Lady van Rijn" said one of the two officers standing on the gate to greet the incoming passengers, with a smile on his face, remembering how a woman of her status must be treated.

"Oh thank you! What a marvellous ship have you built!" she said merrily to the impeccably dressed crewman who had just welcomed her and turned around, to see Arthur and Marianne behind her, coming on board and being greeted the same way she had been. Marguerite took Arthur's hand and he smiled "I hope you are not busy this afternoon for tea and a game of chess afterwards"

Arthur chuckled "Certainly, my dear" Marguerite was the only good thing about that trip. She was kind, down to earth in spite of being an aristocrat, and could cheer even the most depressed person when she opened her mouth. Her husband must have been a very lucky man. Marianne, in exchange, didn't like how she was so close to her husband and glared at her, but when the noblewoman – who had inherited the title of Countess from her father – shifted her kind gaze upon her, she smiled "You are invited, too, dear" Marguerite said before departing to find her cabin with the help of a steward.

Marianne rolled her eyes; she couldn't stand that stupid woman, but for the sake of appearing refined as her mother had taught him since she was little, she smiled and nodded at her. She laced her arm with her husband annoyingly and walked over to the crowded elevator "There is room for one more" called the elevator boy from behind a sturdy woman in a dress that didn't suit her at all, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Marianne, _dear_ " he said through gritted teeth "You go. I'll wait for the next one" he said, pushing his wife to the elevator, whose gates he closed and bid farewell to his soon-to-be wife only for a little while, but _boy_ , would he enjoy it! He decided to go tour the ship, when suddenly a young – though older than him, appeared – tall, blonde boy appeared and tipped his Ascot cap at him, with a thousand watts smile that blinded him.

"Hello, there! The name's Alfred Jones" he said in a dash, presenting himself like a sailor to his commanding officer... who was quite surprised, to say the least. Alfred looked down and saw the suitcase Arthur was carrying around, and for which he couldn't use the stairs "I noticed you are carrying a heavy bag. You mind if I carry it for you?" he asked and, not waiting for an answer from the startled Brit, lifted the suitcase off the floor and held out his hand for Arthur from the second step of the Grand Staircase.

'Oh, bloody hell, he isn't even _that_ attractive' he thought as his hand met Alfred's, causing a shiver to run up his spine from their touching skin 'Who am I kidding? He totally is!' he didn't smile, he didn't frown, but he followed the taller – and broader, he noticed – man up the stairs to his stateroom.

After they had got lost in the sea of cabins because, obviously, the "awesome" Alfred F. Jones hadn't even bothered to ask Arthur for his room number, they arrived to an impatient Marianne, who was pacing back and forth. When the door opened she sighed and put her hands on her hips "Where were you?" she asked, but her stern face dropped when he saw who was carrying his suitcase. She glared at the handsome American.

'Like _hell_ I will let my future husband fall for that again!' she thought bitterly. Obviously, Arthur was not once bitten, twice shy. Their marriage was doomed from the first time, but she didn't care. The only thing she wanted from Arthur was his wealth, and nothing else.

Meanwhile, in steerage, Francis stood out from the rest of the passengers like a sore thumb for his fashionable clothing. He made sure that the Italian girls were well settled before heading upstairs, encountering locked gates he tried to open. The noise alerted a steward that was nearby and he walked over with a smug expression on his face " _Steerage_ passengers must be behind locked doors to avoid spreading diseases" he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Francis fumed; he seemed to be enjoying that.

"Would a _steerage_ passenger, as you say, have this in his pocket" he took out a wad of cash that made the steward's eyes widen "Open the gate" he demanded and the steward quickly complied, bowing to Francis "I'm sorry, sir. Excuse me, sir" he repeated like a mantra as Francis rolled his eyes and continued walking upstairs towards the First Class deck.

He was determined to find Arthur.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur said an awkward goodbye to Alfred as his fiancée was watching them intently. He knew what was going through her mind and the exact same thing was crossing his' at that very moment, needless to say he felt _very_ uncomfortable being stared at by Marianne, with whom he had got engaged to in the spur of the moment, and Alfred, who he had just met and, for a reason, felt week on the knees whenever he directed that pearly white smile to him "W-Well, you had been very kind, Mr. Jones..." Arthur began, not knowing how to bid farewell to the boy he would probably not see ever again.

"Alfred" the handsome Princeton student corrected the blonde young man, who nodded and looked down. Alfred looked down as well, trying to catch his eyes, and Marianne fought against herself in order to not cross her arms over her chest. As she was sitting down, she crossed her ankles instead. She was starting to feel very annoyed at the presence of the American – because he obviously didn't have any other accent – in their cabin. Arthur looked up "Alfred" he corrected himself as well "But I was hoping to spend more time alone with... _my fiancée_ " he said through gritted teeth.

Alfred's smiled faltered and he looked at the woman sitting in a Louis XV sofa in the middle of the sitting room that kept the two bedrooms apart. He discretely approached Arthur's ear and whispered "I don't think you want that, in reality" he said, sensing the tension between the soon-to-be matrimony. Arthur sighed and faked a smiled before nodding at him and closing the door in his face. Alfred looked down at his feet and bit his lip. He walked away, determined to win the Brit's heart at any costs, because when something or, more specifically, _someone_ made his way into Alfred F. Jones' mind or heart – in this case, both – he wouldn't stop until he got it.

Arthur sighed and ran a hand down his face, from behind, a smug smiling Marianne began clapping slowly "Bravo _,_ _mon cher_ " her future husband turned around to face her, with anger in his emerald eyes "You broke that kid's heart like a real professional" she took off her gloves, ignoring her fiancé's eyes burning through her "Michelle, prepare the bathtub for me and put the red and black gown on the bed" she spoke sternly to her maid, who was in her bedroom, making sure all her dresses were not wrinkled in the closet "Yes, _mademoiselle_ " she blew a teasing kiss to Arthur before leaving the sitting room. He took a shaky deep breath and began to count to ten on his mind, to calm himself down, while walking over to their cabin's private promenade deck where he enjoyed the cold air against his cheeks, heated by his anger.

In the corridor, Francis was frantically looking for someone who would direct him to where he wanted to go. He was about to give up when he heard a familiar voice, speaking to the Countess of Rothes, another familiar voice. It was Tino, his favourite Finnish steward. When he was done with the Countess and she went into her stateroom, closing the door, he turned around and smiled upon finding Francis "Oh, Mr. Bonnefoy, you don't remember me but I was on the Mauretania" Tino said with a smile.

Francis put his hands over his shoulders, smiling at him. They were the same height "Of course, how can I forget my favourite steward?"

Tino giggled "Oh, sir... I didn't know you were boarding this ship" he said with a clueless expression on his face.

"Actually, I'm looking for Arthur. Have you seen him?" Francis asked, his smile never faltering. Tino nodded and led him to one of the many white doors. He knocked on it and waited patiently for an answer. Francis was nervous, but yet determined. He wouldn't let Arthur get away again. From inside, they heard footsteps of a woman approaching the door and Francis prayed to God that it wasn't his sister.

"Yes?" Michelle opened the door and was half surprised and half pleased – more pleased than surprised – that _Monsieur_ Francis was there. She wasn't hoping that at all "Oh, _monsieur_ , you are certainly a sight for sore eyes!" she said, showing all her happiness. She had always been glad to have _Monsieur_ Francis as her boss; he was very kind and quite the flirt! Yet his sister was very demanding and never thanked anything she did for her. She was very mean.

"Thank you very much, Tino" he grabbed the boy's shoulders and kissed both his cheeks, making the younger blush and walk away, covering his mouth to stifle his giggles. Francis did the same to Michelle, who was quite accustomed to his displays of affection. When he entered the sitting room, the maid closed the door quietly "Is my sister here?" he asked in a whisper.

"She is taking a bath. They will be going to dinner in half an hour" Michelle said, looking back at the closed door of her room. Arthur and Marianne weren't married yet, so it wasn't appropriate that they shared a bed, even though neither of them was a blushing virgin, and she knew it, but for the sake of keeping up appearances, they would do whatever it took " _Monsieur_ Arthur is in his room, changing too" she said with a smirk and a wink.

"Bless you, woman" Francis said with his never-faltering smile, squeezing her shoulders and going off to find his runaway lover. He didn't knock on the door, as he had seen Arthur nude in several occasions. He opened the door very slowly and saw that there was no one on the spacious room, but the clothes that Arthur had worn to board the ship were neatly folded in one chair, whilst the other parts of the evening dress was laid on top of the bed. He closed the door just as slowly and heard noises coming from inside the bathroom.

He took the clothes from the chair, careful not to unfold any of them by mistake, and gently put it over the bed, next to the evening dress' pants and jacket. He sat on the chair to wait for Arthur to come out. In his head, he knew what was going to happen, they would have an argument like they always did, one of them would humiliate the other – again like they always did –, they would make up and everything would return to normal between them.

Suddenly, the whistling of "The British Grenadiers" from inside the bathroom broke him out of his trance and he readied himself to meet his lover. Arthur came out of the door decorated with golden arabesques, looking down and buttoning up his white waistcoat. He was wearing the Marcella, the shirt and the bow tie, but no pants, which allowed Francis a good view of the long, smooth legs he loved so much – especially when they were wrapped around him during hot sex. Arthur looked up once he finished, not expecting to see Francis there, but when he did, he was frozen in place.

" _Bonsoir,_ Arthur" Francis said with a cocky expression on his face and his legs crossed, sitting on the comfortable chair. Arthur came out of his initial shock "Well, _this_ is new" he thought bitterly as the frown returned to his face and walked further into the room, not minding his semi-nudity, in spite of being a proper English gentleman. He began putting on his pants in front of the full-length mirror and tucking his shirt in. Francis sighed and grabbed the jacket from the bed. He walked over to Arthur, who didn't bother to turn around "You are quite temperamental. I should have expected something like this would happen, but sadly we had come to _this_ " he said as he helped Arthur into the jacket.

The Englishman turned around and looked at his former lover and future brother-in-law. He still had the charm that had made him fall in love with him madly all those years ago, during the Frenchman's business trip to London, when he was just a lad. That luscious hair that fell to his shoulders; it was so soft and he loved to tangle his slender fingers into it as Francis' head laid on his lap after a passionate session of lovemaking. Or the way his bright blue eyes would twinkle when he declared his love for him on numerous occasions, but then, he thought back to the horrible words they had said to each other on their many private fights and arguments, and how those eyes that had once been beautiful, where full of hatred and disdain when Arthur didn't behave as Francis wanted in public. Their love had faded away over the years.

Arthur sighed sadly and pushed Francis away. He walked over to his nightstand and grabbed the white gloves that laid there. He put them on, without looking back, and was about to talk some sense into the Frenchman when he heard voices from the other room and stood still, listening closely to what they said, he put one finger in the air, signalling Francis to be quiet "Michelle, is Arthur ready?" Marianne asked to her maid, who didn't know what to say. She had seen _Monsieur_ Francis enter Arthur's room, and they had been there for quite a while

"Ah... um..." she stuttered, thinking of a good way to cover for her boss and her _other_ boss' future husband. Marianne looked at her with questioning eyes as she fixed her opera gloves "Well, I think Mister Arthur must be taking a bath" she lied, although she didn't feel bad about lying to _Mademoiselle_ Marianne, because she was, in every aspect of the word, a bitch. She wouldn't do that to her brother or Mister Arthur, and she knew they had had a very beautiful love story, she had been witness of that, when they both were at the house in Paris. All she wanted was for everything to be like before.

Marianne huffed and went over to Arthur's bedroom's door. When the Englishman heard the approaching footsteps, he quickly shoved his fiancée's older brother into the bathroom and closed the door. He fixed his clothing and his hair and heard two knocks on the door. He took his time in walking over and opening it, facing an impatient Marianne "I see that you are ready, and just in time. Let's go" she said, boldly opening the door.

Arthur stepped back reluctantly, allowing her to enter the room. Michelle, from the other room, was looking through the door and wondering where the _hell_ had _Monsieur_ Francis gone "Let's go, then" Arthur said as Marianne linked her arm with his' and practically walked him out of the room and into the corridor, where several well-dressed couples were walking over to the staircase on their way to the dining room. Arthur nodded at several gentlemen he knew and Marianne smiled at other ladies. Typical hypocritical upper-class stuff.

As Arthur and Marianne were on their way and the bugler announced dinner like in all British ships, which was annoying to the Americans because they weren't accustomed, it seemed, Michelle ran to Arthur's room and looked around and under the table " _Monsieur_ Francis, are you here?" she called and Francis, with his ear against the door, was enormously glad that the coast was clear. He opened the door and came out to the bathroom, surprising Michelle "Oh, thank God. They are gone to dinner, they won't be returning in two hours I presume" she said as she walked the Frenchman out of his British lover's bedroom.

Francis then asked Tino to bring them dinner and they ate on the private promenade deck, talking about the sudden engagement of Arthur and Marianne, who were, in turn, sitting in a large table with, among others, Countess van Rijn. Arthur had a blank look on his face and he was immersed in thoughts about Francis, their breakup, the engagement and all that had happened in the space of a couple of days, as dinner continued, the musicians played "Glow Worm" of the opera _Lysistrata_ – a song he hadn't heard in ages – and the stuck-up snob talked about their wealth and how they had managed to get wealthier over a short amount of time destroying some natives' villages or killing some poor animals' ecosystem.

Alfred, who hadn't been able to get the Brit out of his head ever since he politely kicked him out with a hard-to-believe excuse, was sitting in his table looking back at Arthur while his gang and a couple other people were engaged in mild chatter and the waiters served them all kind of exotic and elegant food Alfred, in spite of being son of a rich iron tycoon, was not accustomed to. He wished he could have asked the waiter to bring him a hamburger with fries, but, unfortunately, that wasn't on the menu. That's why he preferred the Parisian Café; it was less snobby than the main dining saloon.

"Will you excuse me?" Arthur said, in a very soft, almost inaudible voice, and eyes so blank that could have scared anyone. All the people in the table allowed him to leave, naturally, but Marguerite was worried for her friend. Marianne, in spite of being his future wife, cared more about the scandal of John Jacob Astor's young wife, Madeleine's pregnancy than about him. When he was leaving, Arthur put his hands over Marguerite's shoulders and she smiled fondly up at him and put her hands over his'. He smiled sadly and left the dining saloon as fast as he could, without running, because he was a proper gentleman.

Alfred saw Arthur leave and his fiancée give two shits about it, so he decided to follow him, but he wanted to wait in order to avoid it looking like he was following him, especially after the way that the woman had looked at him and, obviously, forcing Arthur to close the door in his face, back in their stateroom. He looked at his watch and waited a couple of minutes before leaving the table and going the direction he had seen the Brit going.

Arthur gripped the railings until his knuckles turned white. He was crying so hard that he could hardly see as he looked down at the propellers, swallowing the ocean's dark waters. It was terribly cold outside, but he was burning with anger and frustration, and couldn't care less about the chilly air. He was thinking of Francis.

How could he have left him the way he had and then make a dazzling comeback in his life? How could he have hurt him so much in the past? Granted, Arthur was not angel either, but Francis had broken his heart so terribly that now... he was afraid he had lost the ability to love altogether.

"Arthur"

Someone would prove him wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

_I would like to apologise for having abandoned this story, but I have so many ideas that I can't even find time to write them all. Anyways, here is the fourth instalment of this story. I want to clarify two things: the first one is that the following scene is an extract from the 1953 film "Titanic" and the second one is that Francis as such is not bad, he is just very jealous and that plays against him._

 _Anyway, enjoy the chapter and I hope to upload soon._

* * *

It was roughly eight thirty in the evening and the passengers, of the three classes, were having dinner on their respective halls, some with more amenities than others, but it was still dinner, nonetheless. Second Officer Charles Lightoller had previously won a sweepstake among the other officers. The prize: the first watch along with Captain Edward J. Smith. Yes, it was one _hell_ of a prize. The silence in the bridge – engulfed by the darkness of the night – was almost deathly as the Captain contemplated the ocean ahead.

"Slow ahead, all" the Captain ordered to Officer Lightoller in a very soft voice to avoid disturbing the quietness of the bridge. He repeated the Captain's orders louder to the other officers on the bridge, who handled the engine order telegraph. The device's pointer was set on Slow Ahead.

They could feel the engines starting to heat up and shake up the water below them "Steady as she goes" the Captain said, and again, Officer Lightoller repeated his orders to the other officers waiting expectantly for the last order, that came quicker than they thought "Full ahead, all" the Captain finally ordered.

"Full ahead, all" Lightoller ordered, and after the noisy ringing of the engine order telegraph, the pointer was set on Full Ahead.

The Titanic was now setting sail.

* * *

Arthur turned around, startled, for someone had just interrupted his personal thinking time. He had expected to see Francis, but there, standing in front of him in a cold April evening in the Atlantic Ocean, on a luxury ocean liner bound for Ireland, and dressed on their white ties was Alfred, the handsome Princeton student he had met during boarding a few hours ago. He griped the railing as his body was turned on the opposite direction, staring at the blonde boy, whose face looked empty without that smile "A-Alfred" he tried to sound casual and not like he had been crying his eyes out "What are you doing out here?" he asked.

Alfred approached him slowly "Well, I was wondering the same thing" he didn't look anything like he had looked when they had first met. He had concern written all over his face and his blue eyes – his striking blue eyes – were staring deep into his soul "I heard you sobbing when I came out. What happened?"

Arthur turned around once again and looked down at the propellers shaking the water underneath them. He sighed "It's... nothing, actually" he said. He felt the other walking behind him and putting his hand on his shoulder. Arthur looked up and couldn't help but get lost into those eyes; they were getting closer and closer until he pulled away, panting and looking elsewhere "I'm sorry. It's just... my life _sucks_ , at this moment"

"Well, care to tell me why?" Alfred said as he guided the Brit to a bench. They both sat down and Arthur was looking down at his lap. He didn't want to look back at Alfred because he knew that, if he did, he wouldn't have the strength to resist his urge of kissing him on those soft-looking lips. Neither did he know that the American was struggling with the same issue "A penny for your thoughts. Look" he pulled out a shiny coin from his pocket with a smile on his face.

Arthur saw it and chuckled. He was a bright person with a pure heart, he could tell. He deserved an answer "It's my fiancée" Alfred figured as much "We got engaged so quickly and so spontaneously that I didn't have the chance to object. And now, I feel like I am going to regret this as the worst mistake of my life"

Alfred thought for a moment "But you are not married, yet" he reasoned. Arthur looked at him as he got up from the bench, pulling him up "That means you are not bound to her. We could run away together" he said with a bright smile on his face. Arthur laughed. He didn't remember the time when he had laughed that much in a long time "I'm serious" Alfred said, smile still in place as he laughed along with Arthur.

"Oh, you are being cheeky, Mr. Jones" Arthur said, his posh accent wasn't going to make Alfred stop laughing. He let go of the other's cold hands as he was feeling very cold himself "I have to return to my table"

He was about to leave, when he was grabbed from behind and spun around so he ended up in Alfred's arms "Don't go" he whispered. The only sounds were their breathings and the sea below them. Alfred was looking down at Arthur and the Brit was looking up at the American "You look so beautiful in the moonlight" he said.

Arthur felt his face growing red and he detached himself from Alfred's arms "I really have to go" he said, apologetically. Alfred understood and nodded with his head casted downwards. He had felt he had a chance with the cute Brit. He looked up as he felt Arthur walking away "Will I see you again?"

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks and smirked before running over to Alfred and surprising him with a big kiss in the lips. Their faces were red as a couple of tomatoes by the time they pulled away "Of course, big boy" he said coyly with a wink, walking away with a sway of his hips.

Alfred's smile couldn't have been bigger at that moment. When Arthur disappeared, he ran over to the railing and climbed on it, yelling into the night sky, illuminated only by the stars, the moon and Arthur's pretty smile "Wahoo! I'm the King of the World!"

Little did he know that, from an upper deck, the entire conversation and more particularly, the last kiss had been observed intently by an angry Frenchman who was grasping the railing so hard that his fingers were going to bleed.

* * *

Arthur was humming a merry tune as he walked down to his cabin, when suddenly he felt a strong grip on his arm that made him yelp. He was pushed against the wall and his mouth was violated by that of a man with rough stubble. He tried to gasp for air, but as he opened his mouth, an assaulting tongue entered and begun fighting with his'. Then, the other man pulled away and the Englishman could clearly see the dark face of his former lover, Francis, who was panting "This is the only mouth you are going to enjoy. Not that of the American _connard_!"

Arthur pushed the Frenchman off him "How dare you assault me like that in the middle of the corridor?!" he was outraged. When Francis tried to grab him again, Arthur slapped him hard across the face "Our thing is over and you have no right to spy on me and tell me who I must hang out with!" he said. He had never raised his voice in his life, but it was worth it.

When he was walking away "Would you like the entire ship to know that the son of Lord Kirkland is the little bitch of an American university student?" he stopped in his tracks and turned around, in complete shock. The face of the man who was looking at him didn't resemble at all that of the man he had grown to love years ago.

"You wouldn't–"he was cut off by Francis, who was smirking at him.

"Oh, I would. Trust me" he said. When he heard a woman coming down the staircase, they looked away from each other until they realised it was Countess van Rijn, who had known about their love affair when it had started "Marguerite, ma chérie" Francis said, kissing both her hands.

"Oh, Francis! I didn't know you were boarding this ship. Why didn't I see you in the tender?" she asked, surprised that she hadn't seen her good friend up until that moment. Francis chuckled.

"I came through the back door" he whispered with a smirk on his face. The Countess chuckled and looked around "Is there anything wrong, my dear?" he asked her.

"Wasn't Arthur here with you?" she asked. Francis looked at where Arthur had been standing, just mere inches from where he was, but the corridor was empty.

"Oh, well. Seems like he had something more important to do" he said, shrugging. Although he didn't like that attitude of his' at all. The Countess spoke on Francis' ear.

"I am sorry that his father had forced him to wed your sister. I know how you must be feeling" she said, sympathetically. They made a cute couple, but of course, she had never seen them actually fight, only keeping up appearances.

When Arthur opened the door to his stateroom, he was greeting by a sour-faced Marianne with her arms crossed over her chest "I hope you have a good explanation as to why you left the table before" he hadn't even thought that she would be there. He just wanted some calm after what had happened with her brother "If you are wondering, I had to _leave_ the table because I am a woman engaged to marry a man that was most certainly having a fling with that American boy. You think I'm stupid?" she began to raise her voice.

"I'm so done with you two" he said, walking away from her and shutting the door in her face as she wanted to ask which 'two' was he referring to.

* * *

Arthur was walking down the deck, enjoying the ocean breeze as they left Ireland behind. He was thinking hard about what had happened with Francis. He knew that he was a jealous person, and he also knew that nothing good could come out of that attitude. He didn't want Alfred to get hurt, so he had been avoiding him. Every time he walked into a room that Arthur was in, he would discretely leave. If their paths in the deck were to get crossed, he would climb a flight of stairs and disappear among the people.

Even though it had only been one kiss, he felt his lips missing the other's. He sat down in a deck chair, sighing and looking out at the ocean when he heard rustling of paper next to him. He turned to look and, in the contiguous deck chair – which was empty – was a sketchbook with the Irish coastline drawn with a pencil by a very skilful hand. He couldn't resist his urge and grabbed it.

"Hey! That's mine, dude!" he heard a familiar boisterous voice saying. He looked up and saw Alfred, pencil behind his ear, standing next to him. When he recognised Arthur, he smiled and sat down next to him "Well, luck of the Irish, one would say. I didn't even catch a glimpse of you since we left France"

Arthur didn't know what to say, so he looked down at his hands and back at Alfred "Did you draw this?" he asked, with honest curiosity. He saw how Alfred blushed a little and he couldn't help but smile.

"Well, yeah... they... they are mine" he said bashfully, trying to take it from Arthur's hands, but the Brit would have none of it. He swept through the pages and saw how he had drawn some of the passengers with great skill.

"You are very talented, Alfred" he said, not taking his eyes off the sketchbook.

"Well, they didn't think that in old _Paris_. They said that my technique was poor" he said sadly. Arthur saw the look of sheer dejection in the other's face, and decided to cheer him up.

"Oh, _fuck_ them. You are talented" he said, blushing upon swearing. Alfred looked up with wide eyes. He would have never expected this posh British boy to swear like that. He laughed and Arthur laughed too.

"Hey, in all this time you were avoiding me" Arthur tried to correct Alfred, but he knew that he was right and he wouldn't have anything to say in his defence "Did you have any time to roam the ship?"

Now that he thought of that, he hadn't even thought of that "Oh... I guess not" he said sheepishly. Alfred then got up and took advantage of the momentary confusion of the Brit to snatch his sketchbook from his hands "Hey!"

"Well, get your pretty butt up. We are going to explore the most awesome ship of the century" he said with a blinding smile on his face as he led Arthur down the stairs of the deck. The other was thinking, with a blush on his face 'Does he think my butt is pretty?'

* * *

Arthur spent the rest of the day exploring the ship with Alfred, every once in a while, stealing coy glances at each other. It was teatime when Arthur decided to return to his stateroom and lay down for a while. He was exhausted. When he opened the door to his room, he found Francis sitting in the bed looking down at something in his hands. Immediately, Arthur felt fear running through his veins at the possibility that he could jump him when they were all alone "Come in, don't be afraid" Francis said with a soft tone of voice.

Arthur walked further in his stateroom, but left the door open. Francis got up and walked over to him. After looking at him in the eyes, he led him to the vanity table, where he sat, facing at himself in the mirror and Francis behind him "What is this, Francis?"

"I want to give you something. It's the only thing I brought on board" he took out of his pocket a large blue diamond brooch which he clipped to Arthur's jacket. The Brit was astonished by the sheer size of it and how it shone in the dim light "It's called the Blue Ceylon and it has been the most precious thing our family had ever since they auctioned after the death of Queen Victoria"

Arthur's delicate fingertips grazed over it "I can't accept it"

"Take it" a woman's voice said from the open door of his room. He turned to see Marianne standing there with a smile on her face. Why wasn't Francis hiding from her? What was going on? "I saw Francis in the deck today and we had a long conversation"

"This is my way of saying goodbye, cher Arthur" he said with a soft voice in his ear. Marianne nodded.

"Now that you are going to be my husband, I can't let you be divided between two loves. That wouldn't be nice, so just... keep it as a reminder of the love you once had for a member of this family" she said. She had never looked so serious in her life.

Once again, Arthur admired the diamond and the wheels in his head started turning.

* * *

 _I hope this chapter managed to soothe you for the long awaited upload. I promise I will try to post more chapters soon._


End file.
